


Madly, Madly, Madly

by tiggeryumyum



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Bokuto Koutarou, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Kuroo Tetsurou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 18:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19818328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiggeryumyum/pseuds/tiggeryumyum
Summary: The things Bokuto would do, if he was allowed to touch Kuroo.





	Madly, Madly, Madly

Bokuto likes Kuroo's forearms. 

He probably shouldn't, cause they're what Kuroo uses most often to kill his spikes, but he likes the shape of them. They're not dramatic and heavy like Bokuto's arms, they're long, and lean, and humble, but sturdy. Solid. Bokuto likes the bone of his wrist, pronounced and jutting, before pinching into the long, and lean, and slender shape of his hands. 

Kuroo's an omega, and not many guess it, but Bokuto can see it there, in his wrists. His hands. His thighs, too. His neck, especially.

Kuroo's okay with being an omega, but sometimes, it makes Bokuto a little crazy.

Just when he thinks about it. When he gets distracted by Kuroo's wrists or thighs or neck, when they're sweaty and wet, the sight of them making Bokuto itchy under his shirt, like there's something important he should be doing. When Kuroo gets him all riled up, and then instead of taunting him, instead of saying anything at all, Kuroo just smiles, and tilts his head back, showing his throat. Like he's daring Bokuto to take a bite. Knowing he won't.

Those times.

Kuroo doesn't want Bokuto to bite, though! Kuroo doesn't want any alpha to bite him, he scoffed and waved the idea away second year. Bokuto had huffed, watching him close, cause Kuroo is always interesting, always worth watching, but even moreso when he's been sweating, working hard, scent rich and potent in the air around him. And that's what happened last year, during summer, after practice. Sweat was rolling down Kuroo's face, down his neck, and Bokuto watched it go, disappearing down his shirt as Kuroo said that he's an omega who doesn't want an alpha. 

Bokuto blames some of this on summer itself.

They hang out through winter and fall and spring, obviously, but this urgent demand for action _nownownow_ gets louder the warmer it gets, the heat of the season makes everything stickier and the omegas easier to smell. 

It's the camp's fault, too. 

After the practices are over, Bokuto is free to do whatever he wants in the afternoons and evenings, and it's that freedom. It's because when Kuroo's free to do whatever he wants to do, it's exactly what Bokuto wants to do, and they do it together. He gets to keep Kuroo's company late into the night – no studying, no classes, no chores to say otherwise. Just the game and Kuroo, until Bokuto gets his fill or collapses in the effort, and then he can do it all again the next day. Waking up early for the chance, because that's what Kuroo does, too.

When Kuroo walks into cafeteria in the mornings, yawning as he runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up even worse, Bokuto can smell the sleep on him. 

When Kuroo comes out of the bath late at night, he can smell the fresh, wet, clean of his skin. 

Before their games even begin, he can smell the dangerous, sharp edge in Kuroo's eyes on the court, tracking Bokuto's movements. 

And he can smell the beast Kuroo becomes when they start playing, hunting Bokuto out, moving as fast and as strong as he needs to be to stomp out Bokuto's spikes. Which Bokuto should hate! He does hate, but. But if he slows down or gets lazy, Kuroo's gonna eat him alive, and the challenge makes it exciting, makes it fun to play. 

But Kuroo doesn't want an alpha. 

That fact, the words from Kuroo's mouth, is a thick collar, a leash tight around the impatient beast living inside Bokuto, too, pacing from side to side, restless. 

That hot summer, last summer, second summer, after that drop of sweat traveled down Kuroo's throat, dewy and flushed from playing, impatient, demanding pricks of interest crawled across Bokuto's skin, setting him on edge. Kuroo tilted his head to the side, giving Bokuto a better view. Maybe on purpose, maybe not.

Doesn't matter.

Bokuto can look.

He can't touch.

~

This summer. Third summer, last summer. Someone asks if Sawamura has an omega, and before he can answer, Kuroo decides to tease him.

"He's gotta, right Sa'amura-san?" Kuroo asks, wrapping an arm over Sawamura's shoulder. Bokuto is laughing, going along with it, until Kuroo also says, "What omega in their right mind would turn down a chivalrous alpha like you?"

The laughter dies in Bokuto's chest. "You'd date Sawamura?"

Kuroo blinks at the dark intensity in Bokuto's voice, and even Sawamura stops pulling away from Kuroo's reach, looking at Bokuto in surprise. 

"… Well," Kuroo finally says, lightly. "There're worse things."

 _Certain alphas can touch Kuroo,_ is what Bokuto hears. 

Bokuto's not jealous – cause this is better than last year. Kuroo is considering allowing _certain alphas_ close, if they do the right sort of things. Bokuto's summer madness, kept carefully in check two long years, bursts into a wild, hungry inferno. 

Bokuto can find out what those things are, he can learn the specifics, the barrier Kuroo keeps over his interest and wants, and what will grant _certain alphas_ access inside. 

He can find out what will make Kuroo want Bokuto to touch him.

"He's that type, you know," Kuroo says, when coming up with reasons why Sawamura would be a good alpha for _any omega_. "Good grades. Patient senpai. Good listener. He's serious about his team – "

"But not the ace!" Bokuto breaks in at the first thing he hears that he can realistically compete with, and slaps his own chest, over the _4_ he wears there, as the ace. 

"He knows how to receive," Kuroo counters, raising an eyebrow.

Bokuto glowers. That would matter to an omega from Nekoma, he supposes. 

Bokuto's not bad at receives! But Sawamura's are strong enough to be a pillar for Karasuno, especially with all their first years throwing riots at the net. Without Sawamura's reliable receives, Karasuno would be in shambles, even with their super libero. 

"That's what you'd want?" Bokuto asks, to make it clear. "An alpha that can receive?"

"It's the bare minimum," Kuroo says, mercilessly, pointing at Bokuto with his chopsticks to emphasize the point, then grinning at the frustration on his face.

Fine. 

~

When the games start up again, Bokuto leaves most of the scoring, the fun stuff, to Konoha. He's saving his energy and focus for receives, but Sawamura has been doing this for years and he knows how to be useful. His teammates know to rely on him, and he knows where to stand, when he ought to be somewhere else. 

For the first few sets against Shinzen and Ubugawa, Bokuto only follows the ball, and finds himself underfoot, in Komi's way constantly.

"'The hell, Bokuto?" Komi asks, shaking his head clear after they collide. "At least call it out!"

"Right," Bokuto mutters. "Sorry."

Fukurodani’s offense struggles, but no one's annoyed with their losses, and no one pressures Bokuto to get his attention back up at the net again, which Bokuto appreciates. They trust he's trying something out, probably assuming he has a better reason for it than trying to impress an omega on a rival team.

"You're definitely getting the hang of it," Kaori says between sets, letting him see her journal, the stat sheet she's keeping. She points to the tally marks showing Bokuto's nine receives in the last set. Komi caught 15 though, and that's probably closer to Sawamura's level.

By the time they square off against Nekoma, Bokuto's found a new groove, and new resolve. He doesn't get them all, but he gathers up enough, especially Tora and Lev's, though he learns new dislike for the uppity first year's height. There's just no saving the ball when Lev smashes it straight down, over the net, and over the block. 

Still frustrated about this, Bokuto dives with everything he has, landing flat on his chest, successfully launching one of Kuroo's own kill blocks back up into the air. 

Kuroo's face lights up with a kind of pure fury Bokuto rarely gets to see, and he laughs, scrambling quick to his feet, slamming the ball over the next at Akaashi's next toss. 

"What kind of crazy play was that?!" Tora demands, looking over his shoulder, where the spike landed.

"I thought you were trying to beat Karasuno's captain, not their shrimp," Kuroo laughs through his teeth, furious. 

His eyes are glowing, and Bokuto wants to pin him to the court.

Kuroo's wild after that, the two of them refusing to give an inch over the net, and the set finally ends when one of Bokuto's desperate receives flies out of bounds. 

"Great job, Bokuto," Yukie says, giving a thumbs up. "Sixteen receives." 

The rest of the team celebrates Bokuto's accomplishment, except Akaashi. He's figured out what is going on, and watches, unimpressed, from a distance, when Bokuto follows Kuroo out of the cafeteria that night. 

"You saw my receives," Bokuto says.

"Mm," Kuroo says, noncommittal. Acting unmoved, but Bokuto was there, he saw Kuroo light up, inflamed because of Bokuto's plays, and that's not going to work.

But he also understood it wasn't going to be that easy. Kuroo did say the bare minimum, after all. 

He just has to wait for the next thing Kuroo wants from an alpha. 

~

It comes – after Bokuto's razor sharp cut shot during practice in third gym.

Kuroo taps his chin, and speculates on a hypthetical alpha that, instead of trying to evade blocks, powered through each one.

"Ah, don't feel bad though," he finishes, shrugging. "Short cuts are expected. No alpha can rely on their strength _all_ the time."

Bokuto grins, and it probably looks feral. 

Akaashi _tsks_ , not having the patience for this. He thinks this whole thing is a result of Kuroo is pushing Bokuto farther than he realizes, and Bokuto falling for it. He thinks they don't know what they're doing. Akaashi is smart, but this can't be understood with the brain, it's in the gut, the give and pull here. Kuroo knows that he is running, daring Bokuto to chase. To try to catch him, if he can. 

They return to practice, and Bokuto smashes repeatedly into Kuroo's block, over and over again. He does it again, even, the next day during the games, even when it starts losing Fukurodani sets. His team is less patient with this than they were with the receives. It's easier to tell what this is. Akaashi begs Bokuto, in a slow, polite, calm voice, to stop wasting his tosses after they're forced to take multiple refreshing sprints up the grassy hill. 

But Bokuto is determined to blast through Kuroo's block through sheer strength alone, and continues hitting into it every chance he gets. The sight of it when he manages, Kuroo's arm blowing back from the force of it, eyes widening in surprise, is worth every kill, every infuriating snicker from Kuroo. 

"Did you piss Bokuto-san off or something??" he hears Tora asking Kuroo as they switch courts. 

Kuroo doesn't answer outside of sending Bokuto a short look out the cut of his eye, but Yaku says something about _dumbass alphas_ , and they leave it at that.

At the end of the day, Bokuto rips 23 points, by force alone, from Kuroo. 

After dinner, as the sun is setting, Kuroo leaves the cafeteria and collapses at the top of the grassy hill, and lays there, flat on his back. He's staring up at where the most insistent, brightest stars are too impatient with daylight to wait, piercing through the murky sunset. Bokuto follows him up there, high enough that they're out of sight from the gym below. The forearms Bokuto admires so much are bright red, irritated from the day's abuse, but he can smell the pleased, exhausted scent of Kuroo.

"I hit through your blocks," Bokuto says.

"Mmm," Kuroo agrees in a hum, voice calm and deep and even. His eyes are closed. He's relaxed, and he's gorgeous. "Blew me away, ace."

Bokuto hears Kuroo's breath hitch before realizing what he's done – pounced, landing on his hands and knees above him, loosely caging Kuroo there, against the grassy hill. 

Kuroo has the nerve to be surprised by this, after everything he's done. Every wicked thing that's come out of his mouth. Bokuto doesn't say anything, but he stares down at Kuroo's lips, then down at his throat, then up at his face. 

_Well??_ the beast inside him demands. _Well, now??_

Kuroo shifts a bit beneath him, and Bokuto realizes he's put his knee between Kuroo's thighs, moved up high enough for it to be suggestive, enough for Kuroo to react. Kuroo seems suddenly nervous. Like this whole thing was a bluff, and he didn't expect Bokuto to call him on it. 

The thought that Kuroo has only been toying with him, putting him through the paces just to see how far Bokuto will go, occurs to him, but only briefly. It doesn't feel right. But – maybe Kuroo bit off more than he can chew. Maybe he's second guessing wanting Bokuto's full attention now that he has it. That idea would have the beast in Bokuto howling in frustration, in agony, but. He'll listen. 

Kuroo isn't saying anything, staring at Bokuto like he's waiting for something, which is strange, and unsettling.

"Kuroo-kun."

"Bokuto."

"You still want an alpha who blows past your blocks?" 

"… Some day," Kuroo says.

"Not today," Bokuto says. He doesn't ask because it's not a question, already forcing himself to swallow this miserable fact. 

Kuroo licks his lips, watching as Bokuto leans upright, onto his heels, giving Kuroo back his space. 

" _Who_ ," Kuroo starts. Just the word. Just the tone. Bokuto perks in new hope and interest. He knows the sound of Kuroo's teasing, even if the words that follow are mean. "In their right mind would want an alpha who can't keep himself from humping them in public?"

Kuroo's words are a teasing purr as he sits up, pointer finger on Bokuto's chest, pushing him back further. 

"Control yourself, Koutarou."

He gets up, and walks down the hill, and Bokuto stares after him. He's still and silent, cause it's taking everything he has to keep his hold on that leash. 

Can't touch, still can't touch. Not today. 

But some day, maybe.

~

The end of camp comes. They only have sets in the morning, and then free practice for an hour after that. Then they leave, summer ends, and they're back to their normal lives: chores and schoolwork and miles and miles of distance between him and Kuroo. 

There are no more chances to show Kuroo that he's the alpha he wants. 

He doesn't know how to word this as they finish up their last practice, just mopes around as he helps gather the spare balls scattered across the floor of the gym. 

"Bokuto," Kuroo says, looping a finger through the collar of Bokuto's shirt as he walks by. "After camp." 

"After camp?" Bokuto repeats. Then he blinks, processing it, excited. "Yeah? First thing??"

"Once you have a clear head," Kuroo says, firmly, and releases Bokuto with a light shove, onet Bokuto doesn't fight, falling back a step. Then, with an excited holler, rushes through cleaning the gym, even taking the bundled up netting from the first years, assigned the worst, most monotonous tasks. He hurries onto the bus, encouraging the rest of the team along. 

Shinzen is a twenty minute bus ride away from Fukurodani. 

Fukurodani is a four train stops, three running block distance from Nekoma. 

It takes Bokuto thirty-two minutes.

"Bokuto, what the he-"

"It's after camp," Bokuto pants.

Kuroo is alone in Nekoma's clubroom, holding the keys and a clipboard. Captain duties. His bag falls from his shoulder in surprise.

"… Did you _run_ here from Fukurodani?" Kuroo asks, looking between him and the door of the clubroom.

"Train, too," Bokuto says, gripping the front of Kuroo's jacket hanging open on either side of his middle, and pulling him in closer.

"Dumbass," Kuroo snarls, and bops the top of Bokuto's head. They're both without real heat, but there's none of the teasing flirting Kuroo had been giving, all week, and less than an hour ago. 

Game over. 

Bokuto releases him, and Kuroo steps back. "You think this is a clear head? When you're so deep in rut you can barely see straight?"

"Wha – I'm not in rut!"

"I know what a rut looks like," Kuroo says. "You've been crazy all camp, you _ran here_ from the train. How did you even find the clubroom?"

He followed Kuroo's scent, is how. Bokuto's expression gives it away immediately, and Kuroo raises his eyebrow, like, _See?_

Kuroo thought he was in rut. This whole time. 

The angle he's been viewing Kuroo's flirty behavior at camp from drops, twists, into new light. 

If Bokuto had been in rut, and was going after Kuroo out of crazy and irrational instinct, there would be nothing anyone could really do, except send Bokuto home from camp early, maybe. Kuroo – played along? Kept him – focused on volleyball, Bokuto realizes. The things Kuroo wanted from him. Kuroo wanted Bokuto to keep this precious week of practice. 

Now, Kuroo doesn't have be that kind. He can bop Bokuto on the nose, send Bokuto on his way, back home, to rest, and both of them can pretend this never happened. 

"I'm _not_ – "

"As if there's anything else that could get an alpha this worked up – "

" _You!_ " Bokuto says, so loud and so frustrated that Kuroo flinches back in surprise. "You did! You do! You always do! If you don't want – want anything from me, fine. But I know when I'm in rut, and this is – this is just me! This is just how much I want to be your alpha!" 

Kuroo stares, expression blank. Not surprised. Just empty. 

He doesn't say anything, and Bokuto starts to worry he's made a mistake – until he sees the pink slowly coloring Kuroo's face. 

Kuroo gets the upper hand on Bokuto all the time, half the time before Bokuto even realizes it. He's never merciful about it, either. 

So Bokuto decides he's not gonna be. 

"You made me crazy camp last year, too," he keeps going, stepping closer. "I didn't do anything, cause you said you didn't want it. But I wanted to, the whole time. And – Sukiya! When we got Sukiya, and you ordered, you remembered what I wanted and remembered I don't like radish. I wanted to do something, then!"

"... I don't remember that," Kuroo says, quietly.

"Last month," Bokuto says, stepping even closer. "And, before, with Tsu-Tsuit – "

"Tsuitta," Kuroo says for him, a small smile is cracking up his face. 

"Yeah, that," Bokuto says. _Tsuitta_ , Bokuto always trips over the word, and trying to say it to had almost derailed a story he'd been trying to tell to everyone a few weeks ago – but Kuroo had said it for him then, too, mildly, without looking up from his phone, and Bokuto had felt it strong then, the same thing he felt when Kuroo dropped his full weight on Bokuto instead of saying hello when the ran into each other at the beach, happy and teasing and close. 

When he kicked Bokuto off the couch cause he wouldn't stop pouting about losing at Mario Kart, then refused to let him back up. They ended up wrestling, and it had been enough of a distraction for the dark mood to roll out of Bokuto's mind. He keeps thinking of more and more times he felt it, wanting Kuroo, quiet, mundane, boring times that he kept to himself. He could list them all, but he knows – Kuroo's smart, and he knows them already. "It happens all the time, Kuroo! So don't try to say it's all rut – "

Kuroo grabs the front of Bokuto's shirt, and jerks him forward. 

They're kissing. 

Kuroo's hand is on the back of Bokuto's head, digging into his hair, and their lips are pressed together. Because of this their chests are pressed together, Bokuto's hands land on Kuroo's sides on instinct, and he moves his lips, trying to find how they fit like this. What feels _good_ , and what feels better than that, lip against sensitive lip, tilting his head, realizing he can push into Kuroo's mouth, and doing so earns him a short, surprised moan. 

They pull back, breathless, checking one another's expressions – _is this okay?_ Yes. More than okay, Kuroo is hungry for more, wants more. 

With all the energy of a dam cracking from pressure that's been building up for years, Bokuto gives it, pulling him close with a growl, then pressing him against the wall. The kisses are growing more heated, more confident, more demanding, as they get better at it. 

It's like playing against Kuroo, knowing that if he slows down even for a second, Kuroo will eat him alive, growing competitive and greedy between them. There's so much of Kuroo, and it's all pressed up against him, Kuroo's forearms, his wrists, his throat, all within reach, and Bokuto wants to taste them all. 

There's his thighs, too, which are thick and strong, flexing under Bokuto's hand when he explores down Kuroo's middle – a warning before he slowly pets up, toward Kuroo's firm, tight, ass. 

"Ng," Kuroo gasps, breaking the kiss again, dropping his forehead to Bokuto's shoulder as Bokuto gropes with both hands, greedy, gripping, lewd. Afraid of maybe moving too fast, Bokuto's touch grows gentle, rubbing fondly.

"Wanna stop?"

"Shit," Kuroo says, eyes scrunched tight. "No."

"Y-You want more? Here?" Bokuto asks. His hands creep up, to the elastic of Kuroo's shorts, sneaking under the fabric, hopeful. Really? Here? Now??

"I – " Kuroo looks again at the door behind him, then his eyes shut as Bokuto licks, taking a long, slow taste of his neck. "Yeah."

Bokuto huffs, excited, giddy, as Kuroo reaches around Bokuto, and the door locks with a click. 

Seeing Kuroo naked is new. He's seen Kuroo's chest and back at the beach, and sometimes before bed, but the peeks of Kuroo's flat stomach at camp, when he pulled it up to wipe down his face during practice were still exciting. And the most important parts below that are new completely, omegas clean and dress in unknown areas of camp Bokuto has never seen before.

But this context makes everything new, Kuroo's pulling his shirt over his head just for Bokuto to see, just for Bokuto to touch. It makes it the best kind of shirtless, a kind Bokuto's never seen before, and when he does the same for his shorts, Bokuto scrambles to do the same, shivering, excited, feeling wild. 

He's reaching out for Kuroo before he even finishes kicking them off. They're on the floor of the clubroom now, flesh on flesh and the suggestive positioning itself making Bokuto growl before diving into hungrier, demanding kisses, Bokuto's hands exploring Kuroo's flesh, nails scratching lightly across his back, his thighs, digging into his ass.

"Jesus," Kuroo hisses out, panting. 

"What? What's wrong?" Bokuto asks, pulling his hands back, to hover just above Kuroo's skin.

"I – nothing," Kuroo says. "You're greedy bastard."

Bokuto laughs, because for some reason that feels like a compliment. His eyes land on the curve of Kuroo's neck, the thing he's been so fixated on, forever, and leans down, taking a bite.

It smells like Kuroo here, strongly, and it's soft, tender flesh. Kuroo moans softly, growing more urgent as Bokuto's biting takes on a purpose, determined to leave a mark. 

Hands flex, tightening where they rest on Bokuto's shoulders, but not stopping him, so Bokuto turns his head, and licks at the long, lovely line of Kuroo's forearm. 

"What," Kuroo snorts, sounding giddy. 

"I like your arms," Bokuto says, twining their fingers together, bringing Kuroo's wrist up to his mouth, biting softly, traveling down, the warm, reddened skin. Here the skin is also soft, and even more tender than his neck, and Bokuto's restless desire has him leaving a hickey right there, too, the second he gets enough muscle to really bite, tease between his teeth, bruising the skin.

When he pulls back he sees the abused skin, and imagines seeing it again, next time they play, the mark there. The spot will is strange enough for others to assume it's simply a strangely shaped bruise, but Bokuto will know. Kuroo will know. He licks the spot, then shifts down Kuroo's body. That's the place he wants to be, between Kuroo's legs. 

" _Don't_ ," Kuroo says, sharply, hand gripping a tight warning on Bokuto's hair when he starts to bite down on his thighs. Kuroo's face is flushed a pleasant pink, his eyes are glassy, but narrowed in real warning. 

Bokuto grumbles, but obeys. 

Instead, his fingers slide back, past Kuroo's cock, which is a nice, heavy size, and stiffening with interest. Bokuto likes how it looks, and feels, but it's nothing compared to the electric thrill travels sharp through his entire body when he feels that Kuroo is already wet, behind that, already approves of the way Bokuto's been touching him. 

Bokuto pulls back his hand, staring at the wet, slick texture on his fingers, stunned. The smell of it is pure, raw Kuroo, most demanding, most wanting. Bokuto licks his lips, feeling confident, proud, eager. Yes. It's the best thing Bokuto's ever felt to date, until he uses that slickness to ease his way into Kuroo's wet, hot, hole.

"Oh – yeah," Kuroo breathes out, voice deep and pleased as Bokuto figures out how to move his fingers, adding another. "Yes, please."

Kuroo is tight, but Bokuto thinks some of that might be nerves, because when Bokuto kisses at his hip, runs his free hand up his side, it relaxes, just a little. The stretch is easy, with Kuroo's encouraging, soft reactions, Bokuto could do this for hours, watching and learning which touches make Kuroo's breath catch, and which makes his toes flex, his hips jerk like they're not sure if he wants more, or if it's too good – he could make Kuroo come like this, he thinks – but another day. 

When he pushes in, Kuroo's entire body tightens in a long line of pleasure, gasping. Bokuto pulls out, then slams in again, and watches how good Kuroo feels chase across his body again, contorting it, back arching up, eyes going sightless. 

Arousal roasts Bokuto from the inside out, intense and strong enough that his skin flushes, his cock growing thicker, harder, as Kuroo flexes around it. 

"Nnng," Bokuto groans, hands shaking. He's here, he's inside Kuroo, who is wet and ready and wants him. Bokuto is the alpha Kuroo's picked to do this to him, be inside him, make him feel good. This is what Bokuto's wanted since before he even had the words, since the moment he realized that there's a reason why playing with Kuroo felt so much better than playing against anyone else, why smelling him filled him with energy that made it feel possible to move a mountain.

So Bokuto rolls his hips back, and fucks that energy into Kuroo. 

"Augh! Fuck!" Kuroo shouts, crying out again when Bokuto does it again, fucking into him again, fucking into that tightness, warmth, fuck.

"Does the alpha you want," Bokuto says. "Fuck you like this?"

Kuroo's moan is long, reedy, like he's trying to respond but can't. It's okay, Bokuto knows. Bokuto's making him feel good, the way Kuroo needs. 

Kuroo is flexible. He's long and bendy. Bokuto tries to be gentle and cautious at first, but as he continues thrusting in, spreading Kuroo's thighs just that much wider as he gets that much closer, he realizes there's no limit to how far he can bend Kuroo's legs open. Over his shoulder, yanking rougher than he needs to, just that desperate and eager to get inside. Deeper, and deeper, he wants to get as far inside Kuroo as he can, the flesh of his ass slapping against Bokuto, the sound alone a reward for trying. The sounds escaping Kuroo's mouth – 

"Bokuto, fuck, Bokuto,"

Bokuto shifts, holding Kuroo's thigh there, up against his chest, knee over his shoulder, and leans forward for better leverage. There's no resistance, Kuroo bends, easy, and Bokuto groans, unable to believe how arousing the sight is, how good it feels to get this close. 

Bokuto leans in, watching Kuroo's expression, because it felt amazing to see Kuroo light up with anger while they played, but seeing him like this, feeling pleasure so strong that it makes his eyes just as bright – because of Bokuto – 

"Kuroo," Bokuto says. Kuroo doesn't react, so Bokuto says it again, pressing it closer to Kuroo's ear, tasting the sweat along his hairline. "Kuroo."

"Bokuto," Kuroo forces out.

"Look at me," Bokuto says. 

Kuroo does. 

Bokuto wraps his hand around Kuroo's cock, stroking as he fucks, slow, deep thrusts. "Your alpha's gonna make you come now. Alright?"

"Oh god," Kuroo says, brokenly. 

Bokuto hums, deep and pleased. It's easier than he would've thought, focusing on Kuroo, finding the pace that will see him done first. It's a strange calm, over the hectic instinct chasing after release. He moves faster, watching the pleasure build in Kuroo's face, feeling the nails digging into his arms, deeper, trying to brace against it. 

Kuroo comes with a cry, thrusting back onto Bokuto's cock, needier than he's been this entire time – he needs to be fucked through it, so Bokuto keeps going, faster than before, slamming in brutally. 

"Yeah, yeah," Bokuto finds himself saying, mindlessly, body thrusting toward release. He could knot. That'd be crazy, he's never fucked Kuroo before, but he can feel it there, if he tries, if he focuses on it, on how Kuroo's moaning along, brokenly, with each movement of Bokuto's dick. 

Later. There will be other chances to knot this omega, his omega. Bokuto ducks his head, groaning deep and loud as he lets go, coming, a release that he feels all the way in his toes, hips snapping shallow and wild into Kuroo. 

"Yeah," Kuroo murmurs, like he's getting off on this too, and Bokuto stares at him dazed, and has to force himself not to start knotting.

The silence that follows is warm, floating, bliss.. He leans back, letting Kuroo's leg down, and then immediately follows, dropping his weight onto him. Kuroo snickers, sounding tired and amused, into his hair. 

"Get that out of your system?" Kuroo asks, hand stroking up and down Bokuto's back.

"Nope," Bokuto says, wrapping his arms around Kuroo's middle, tugging him closer. "Made me hungry for more."

Kuroo snorts, like he should've expected that, petting up Bokuto's neck, his hair. He's not sure how long they lay there, petting. Close. It's good. He likes this, Kuroo here, in his arms. But he was telling the truth. Nothing has been excised from Bokuto. He's acquiring a taste for this, if anything. 

Eventually Kuroo starts sits up, encouraging Bokuto to follow with promises of food – "Sukiya's open til ten.".

Bokuto's stomach growls in angry agreement. "What time is it now?"

"Eight. C'mon," Kuroo grunts, climbing to his feet. There's a mess to clean up, both of them shuffling off to the school bathrooms to get it done, Kuroo locking it back up once finished. On the train to Sukiya, after they find seats and settle in, Kuroo sighs, leaning against Bokuto as the train sways with each start and stop. 

Apparently, Kuroo wants an alpha willing to bear his weight on the train after he's been thoroughly exhausted. 

Bokuto would do it anyway, but now it's for his omega, his boyfriend, and that makes it feel noteworthy. Important. Better. 

Feeling proud of himself, Bokuto drops an arm over his shoulder, getting close enough to inhale Kuroo's sated, contented scent. 

There will be other things Kuroo needs from his alpha, Bokuto will be learning them from now on, one by one, day by day. He knows they won't all be as easy as this, but he's still ready to try.


End file.
